


your shockwave whisper

by rememberingsunday



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, brendon is not, ryan is a badass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rememberingsunday/pseuds/rememberingsunday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon’s sixteen and Ryan’s twenty and like, this probably shouldn’t be a thing.</p><p>(or, the one where age is just a number. at least, that’s what Brendon and Ryan decide)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He’s fucking _adorable._

Like, seriously. Ryan can’t keep his eyes off him and that’s saying a lot because Ryan Ross does not become all love struck after someone. It just doesn’t happen. Even with tiny, slight boys with bangs and huge brown eyes.

But like. There’s something about him. Something special. And it’s really unnerving him because Ryan Ross does not think random people are special.

Also, he should stop using the last name thing. It sounds kinda pompous.

Ryan is kind of the picture of “the boy you do not want your daughters to date” which is actually okay with him, one because he doesn’t date, he fucks, and two because he’s gay. So he doesn’t have to worry about that. Maybe more like “the boy you do not want your sons to date, either”. That fits the picture better.  
He’s all eyeliner and dark eyes and leather jackets and cigarettes and he has a voice that just screams all the bad things like drugs and sex and places you don’t want your child to go (though, in Ryan’s opinion, those are all the good things. Well, some drugs. As bad as he looks, he has some self-respect left).

But anyways. Cute boy who’s walking down the street. And like, why the fuck is he walking down this street at god-knows-o’clock, wearing a fucking polo shirt and slacks? He’s totally going to get jumped. He looks like a prep, a cool kid, someone who is just begging to be shoved up against an alleyway by some wannabe gang punk with a switchblade and a bottle of spray paint. One thing Ryan’s learned over time is that switchblades are _not_ cool and neither is spray painting all over the place. If you have something to say, sure, but not if it’s like, “ _Kelly Walker is a total slut”_ (which he has seen several times all over the place – he’s kind of wondering who this Kelly Walker is). Then that’s just uncool. It’s defacing the city, c’mon.

The boy glances behind him nervously, his ridiculously huge brown eyes looking scared. Ryan feels a bit bad for him – he’s obviously never been here before, if the cautious way he’s walking any clue.

Ryan decides to talk to him.

“Hey, kid,” he starts. The boy jumps, looking terrified. Ryan allows himself to feel bad for about .3 seconds before continuing. “You lost?”

He shakes his head rapidly. “No…?”

Ryan chuckles. “It’s okay to admit it. I won’t hurt you.”

(Later on, Ryan has to admit that this is a promise he didn’t keep. But that’s getting ahead of the story)

The boy bites his lip. “Um. Yeah, then. I am, I’m totally lost.”

Ryan almost doesn’t hear him, distracted by his white teeth biting those god damn _lips._

“Okay, yeah. Cool. Um… where are you headed? Oh… what’s your name?”

The boy fidgets a little. “Do you know the super ghetto apartments on 23rd? And Brendon. M’Brendon.”

 _Brendon._ The name suits him.

“Oh, those _are_ kind of ghetto,” Ryan admits. “I’m Ryan. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Brendon is looking down at the pavement. “Um. Yeah.” He still looks scared and Ryan can imagine how he looks right now – black hair combed over his eyes, too much eyeliner, tattoos up his arms and a tattered black t-shirt with black jeans. He looks dangerous. He knows it, too.

“It’s just,” Brendon starts again, looking nervous. “My mom is going to freak out because it’s a school night and like, I was supposed to be home a while ago but fricking _Spencer_ was like, “No, Bren, you’ll be fine, just tell her you’re spending the night,” which would have been fine except his sister broke her arm and they had to go to the hospital and I had to walk home and now I’m here.”

Through all of this rambling, Ryan manages to figure one fact.

“Wait,” he cuts in. “How old are you?”

“Um,” Brendon doesn’t meet his eyes. “Fifteen?”

Well, fuck.

“Oh,” Ryan manages. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,” Brendon shrugs.

“Okay,” he takes a deep breath. “So, the ghetto apartment building on 23rd. Got it. It’s about a forty five minute walk from here.”

“Guess I’ve already destroyed my life, might as well continue it,” Brendon mutters.

So that’s how Ryan Ross found himself leading an adorable/sexy as fuck fifteen year old home on a Thursday night.

Life has interesting twists and turns, sometimes.

As they walk, Brendon tries to fill the awkward silence with chatter. Ryan learns he goes to an all boy’s school, is Mormon, loves anchovies, wants to be in a band, can sing like an angel, and his best friends’ names are Spencer Smith and Jon Walker.

“Okay,” Brendon begins after an interesting monologue about his cat (it’s name is Snick Snick and it’s an orange tabby). “Tell me about yourself.”

Ryan tries to think of something remotely interesting to tell him. Even though he should’ve been finding Brendon’s stories boring, they had riveted him – something kind of weird, yes, but for some reason he found the boy fascinating. He probably would have been okay listening to him forever.

“Um. I’m Ryan Ross… my best friends’ names are Pete Wentz and Gerard Way…”

“Oh!” Brendon exclaims, looking overjoyed. “Does he have a younger brother named Mikey?”

“Yeah,” Ryan replies, wondering where this is going.

“I dated him!” Brendon announces happily. Then his face shuts down, and he looks terrified. “Um. I mean. I didn’t?”

Ryan raises his hand to pat Brendon on the shoulder reassuringly, and the boy actually flinches, like he might hit him or something.

He lets his hands drop. “Brendon, it’s fine. I’m gay, too.”

The amount that Brendon relaxes is almost comedic but it doesn’t make Ryan laugh. It makes him wonder how bad his family  is about gay people because obviously, there’s something that’s stopping Brendon from being, well, _open_ about it.

“Okay,” Brendon sighs. “Yeah. Mikey told me all about Gerard. Kinda creepy looking… dyed red hair?”

“Yeah,” Ryan laughs. “Yeah, that about sums him up.”

“Wait a second…” Brendon’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks adorably confused. “Pete Wentz. I don’t suppose he has emo hair and wears eyeliner and girls’ jeans… does he?”

“Um,” Ryan pauses. “Yeah?”

“HOLY SMOKES!” Brendon actually _jumps with joy_ and waves his arms about happily. “Pete is dating my friend Patrick!”

“Wait, you’re friends with Patrick?”

“Yeah! I mean, he graduated and stuff, but we hang out a lot!”

Ryan is now a little weirded out about how they’re kind of…. connected. It’s freaky.

“Oh,” he shrugs. “Weird. Okay, then. I guess we’re like… connected.” He echoes his thoughts.

Brendon flushes pink and Ryan almost coos. God, he should stop this. Because Brendon’s only fifteen and this is like, really wrong.

“Yeah,” Brendon agrees, his voice softer now. “I guess so.”

They turn onto another street and the younger boy looks up. “How much longer?”

“Ehm... twenty minutes? I dunno – I only come over here because Patrick lives here and Pete and him are like, attached at the hip.”

“I know,” sighs Brendon. “Aren’t they adorable?”

“Not as adorable as you,” Ryan sighs back. He freezes, realizing what he just said. “I mean… um.”

Brendon is fire hydrant red now. He looks down. “You’re not adorable.”

And yeah, Ryan planned on apologizing but hell no, now.

“Oh, thanks,” he replies, glaring at him.

“You’re sexy,” Brendon continues, rolling his eyes.

“Oh,” Ryan says faintly. He needs to stop this.

Brendon looks at him, eyes big and brown and his lips, oh fuck, his lips. Ryan’s gonna die.

They walk for a little while longer before Brendon speaks up. “I kind of really want to have sex with you…?”

“Um,” Ryan licks his lips and it’s not like he doesn’t want to have sex with Brendon, but. This is just bad.

“I mean, that’s not all,” he continues. “It’d also be pretty cool to hold your hand and stuff. And go on dates, maybe. I should have probably asked you that first,” he flounders. “But, um, Ryan, would you like to go on a date? With me? “

“Brendon, I’m sorry, I can’t, you’re… you’re fifteen, and I’m twenty-one and –“

“Dude,” Brendon sighs. “Patrick was sixteen and Pete was twenty two.”

Which, Ryan admits, he has a point.

“But they waited, and like, Brendon, you’re so… unpolluted!”

“Oh,” Brendon frowns. “Wow, okay. Thanks.”

Ryan sighs, frustrated. “That’s not what I meant. Well, I mean, it kind of is. But like, you’ve never had to deal with somebody trying to knife you in an alleyway, you’re going to school and hell, I dropped out of college when I was a freshman, and you have a future and just, even though I do like you, I can’t just… destroy you like that.”

Brendon had seemed to get only one thing out of Ryan’s rant. “You like me?”

Ryan sighs again. “Of course I do, idiot. You’re cute and I like the way you talk and I like hearing about Snick Snick, which is weird because I can’t stand listening to Patrick talk about his god damned dog for more than five minutes and I love dogs – “

“Yeah but,” Brendon interrupts. “Patrick’s really freaky about his dog.”

“Yeah,” Ryan admits. “But the point is, even if all of this stuff is true, you’re fifteen. I’m twenty one.”

“I’ll be sixteen in July,” Brendon volunteers.

“It’s November.”

“Still! C’mon, Ryro.”

“What did you just call me?”

Brendon turns red again. “Um. Ryro? I just thought…”

“I like it,” Ryan says, a soft smile on his face. Oh, he’s _so_ fucked.

“One date?” Brendon pleads. “We can go for pizza. I like pizza. We can talk about cats and I can tell you all about Snick Snick, and how much she loves sleeping in the crook of my knee and then maybe we can have sex.”

“Horny teenager,” Ryan mutters. And this is a really, really bad idea. “God dammit. Fine. Let’s go on a date.”

Brendon starts doing this ridiculous happy dance in the middle of the street, completely with waving his arms about and grinning this huge grin.

“Yay!” He hugs Ryan. “Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me. This is such a bad idea, oh my god – “

“And we can ice skate, and go bowling, and go on double dates with Pete and Patrick, and ooo, lets set up Gerard and Spencer!”

“Hey, we all can’t be dating fifteen year olds,” Ryan frowns.

Brendon rolls his eyes. “Spencer is _seventeen,_ Ryan.”

“Oh. Well. Alright?”

They turn another corner and there is the ghetto 23rd street apartment building.

Brendon holds out his phone. Ryan looks at it. “What?”

“Give me your number, idiot.”

“Oh.”

He puts himself in Brendon’s phone, and jumps as the younger boy hugs him and kisses his cheek.

“Bye Ryro! See you later!”

As Brendon bounds away, Ryan wonders what the fuck he just got himself into.

_[from unknown]_

_snick snick just licked my face i think she smells u_

_[from unknown]_

_u put urself under ryro???? i love u so much omg_

Ryan smiles.

****


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re dating a highschooler?”

“Okay, I agreed to one date, Gerard, _one date._ We are not married.”

“And it’s Brendon Urie?” Gerard acts like he didn’t hear anything Ryan just said. “My little brother’s ex? Mikey is seventeen, Ryan, _seventeen._ I am appalled.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ryan glares. “Like you wouldn’t date Frank if he was fifteen.”

“You’re destroying his innocence,” Gerard continues, ignoring him.

“He wants to have sex with me?”

“Ryan!” Gerard gasps. “You can’t! That’s illegal!”

“I know, I know,” Ryan holds up his hands. “I won’t. Not until he’s sixteen, at least.”

Gerard sighs heavily. “Do you like him?”

Ryan thinks about it. “Yeah?”

“Are you sure? Because Ryan, this isn’t your usual fuck buddy, this is Brendon, and I’ve only ever met him when Mikey brought him over but, Ry, there’s something kinda special about that boy. So like. Don’t hurt him?”

“I won’t,” Ryan promises. He pictures those big brown eyes filling with tears because of him and inwardly shudders.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Ryan wants to ask what the fuck that even means but Gerard glides away. He’s way too much like Snape for his own good.

**

Patrick is ecstatic.

“I love Brendon!” He gushes as Ryan watches him wash dishes. Sometimes it gives him hope that Pete Wentz was able to find a guy like Patrick. Maybe there is a chance after all.

Patrick Stump is, if Ryan had to describe him, a fiery ball of adorableness. He gets angry at Pete a lot and Pete just nuzzles him like a kitten and Patrick caves faster than you can say “guitars”. He yells at Pete when he’s out too late and Ryan no longer has to worry about Pete overdosing again. He knows that he’d never, ever be able to leave Patrick.

Ryan doesn’t get to see the dynamics of Pete and Patrick when they’re alone, but he catches little glimpses. Like the one time he burst into the apartment uninvited and Patrick was lying down on the couch, on top of Pete, who was massaging soothing circles into his hip bone. They were both smiling, drowsy eyed. It was irritatingly cute.

They just seem to… gravitate towards each other. Like magnets. Ryan can totally get what Brendon was saying, about them being “adorable.”

“Yeah?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah!” Patrick beams. “He’s a sweet kid. Hyper, and stuff, and kinda… closed off but with his family, who would expect him not to be?”

“His family?” Ryan asks in confusion.

“Oh,” Patrick says. “Let him tell you. He will eventually.”

“Okay?”

Patrick nods to himself before continuing soaping up a pan. “I won’t deny it’s a little weird, since you’re twenty one and he’s fifteen or whatever. But I trust you to make your own decisions, and if you’re both comfortable with it, then why not? I think you guys would be good together.”

Patrick really reminds him of his mother sometimes. Except not really, because Ryan’s mother was a drug addict and kicked him out for being gay when he was fifteen and then he met Pete and ended up living with a bunch of guys who were… um. Well, you can probably imagine what is like, since the guys were Gerard, Pete and Patrick.

The point is, Patrick reminds him of what his mother should have been like. Warm. Comforting. Accepting.

“And Ryan?”

“Yeah?” Ryan breaks from his thoughts.

Patrick turns off the water and dries his hands on a towel, turning to face him seriously. “Don’t hurt him, okay? Brendon’s… fragile, even though he might not seem like it.”

“I won’t,” Ryan promises.

He should really start keeping track of all these promises – he might end up breaking one.

**

“Snick Snick says hi.”

“Okay,” Ryan says. Snick Snick sounds really adorable, actually. Ryan’s always wanted an orange cat.

Brendon’s breathe crackles over the phone. “So liiiiike…” he drags out the ‘I’. “Do you wanna hang out?”

Ryan bites his lip, trying to ignore the choruses of “ _wrong wrong wrong”_ going through his head. “Actually, yeah. I’d love that.”

“Cool,” Ryan can actually hear Brendon’s smile over the phone. “Can I come over to your house?”

“Well,” Ryan ignores where Gerard is snoring in his underwear on the couch. “I mean, if you want to be mentally scarred by partially nude dudes, then yes.”

“Are they hot?” Brendon asks breezily.

“Well,” he tilts his head. “Do you think Gerard is hot?”

“Kind of. In like an emo way. But I guess you’re pretty emo too, so.”

“I try,” Ryan says dryly. “Sure, come over.” He tells Brendon the address and then they hang up and suddenly he realizes how fucking filthy his apartment is and starts freaking out.

“Dude, what the fuck,” Gerard mumbles grumpily as Ryan yanks the couch pillow out from under his head so he can set it up nicely. “Fuck off. I’m sleeping.”

“Brendon’s coming over,” Ryan says anxiously.

Gerard sighs loudly and sits up. “Fucking pedo. Fine, okay, I’ll get up, but this is a one time thing. Good god, it’s like the crack of fucking dawn.”

“It’s one o’clock, fucker,” Ryan points out and Gerard cracks his eye open.

“Fuck _you,_ Ross.”

But whatever, because at least Gerard is getting up. Maybe he’ll even shower, if Ryan’s really lucky.

He’s just shoving everything under the couch when someone knocks on the door.

Ryan runs his hand through his hair and rushes over, making sure he looks slightly presentable. And like, why is he even worrying this much? He doesn’t care, that much at least. Brendon is just some fifteen year old boy. Ryan shouldn’t be so worried.

All these thoughts go flying out the window as he sees Brendon, in too fucking tight jeans and some weird purple t-shirt with red glasses and big lips and dark eyes and _fuck._

“Hi,” Brendon beams, bouncing from one foot to the other.

“Hi,” Ryan says faintly. “Um. Come in.”

Brendon bounces into the room, grinning hugely. Ryan is so not prepared for this.

The door to the hall opens up and Gerard emerges, his red hair wet and looking clean.

“Hey, kid,” he nods at Brendon. “I’ve heard a lot about you, from Mikey.”

Literally, Gerard could probably have not said anything to make it more awkward.

“Yeah…” Brendon mumbles. Ryan really wants to know the deal with this, and what happened between him and Mikey, but figures it’s not the time. He’ll get the story later.

He yanks Brendon away from Gerard because he’s pretty sure more awkward stuff will be said if they keep talking, and pulls him into his bedroom.

“Oh, I like where this is going,” Brendon grins lewdly. Ryan rolls his eyes.

“Shut up. We just needed to get away from Snape.”

Brendon laughs and falls back on Ryan’s bed. “Yeah, okay. So. Let’s talk.”

“Okay,” Ryan agrees, falling back next to him. “Let’s talk.”

It’s weird, he thinks, how much he wants to know about Brendon. He wants to know everything and he wants Brendon to know everything about him and like… he’s never really felt this before. Not really.

But he can’t deny that he likes it.

**Author's Note:**

> very sorry for subjecting you to my fictional fantasies but i quite like this???  
> also  
> should there be more????


End file.
